The Minaldi Legacy

by Courtney Cole

  I’m already shaking my head. “No. There’s no way. He didn’t kill those girls before. Adrian did. And the drugs that Adrian gave him rendered him unconscious, but sexually aroused and aggressive. Adrian set him up to rape those girls. Luca didn’t kill them. He wouldn’t. Adrian is still alive. It’s Adrian doing this. Not Luca. Luca’s not crazy.”

  I believe that with every fiber of my being. Thinking back to the night that we first had sex, the night Luca came into my bedroom in the midst of an episode, Luca had acted wooden and drunk. He didn’t act violent. He was abrupt, he was insistent. He wasn’t murderous and he certainly wasn’t crazy.

  “It wasn’t him.” I say it again, more firmly this time. “I’ll never believe it and I can’t believe that you would, either.”

  Christoph sighs tiredly. “I didn’t say that I believe it. I said that it’s a possibility that we have to examine. I love my brother, Eva. I would never condemn him without cause. I’m just worried that perhaps Luca knew his episodes were changing or growing worse. Maybe that’s one of the reasons he left. He didn’t want to expose you to danger. Since he didn’t tell us his reasons, we’re left guessing, and wondering the worst.”

  I shake my head. “Not me. I’m not wondering the worst. I know Luca. I know his heart, I know his mind. He didn’t say anything to me about his episodes worsening. He simply said he was worried about the danger Adrian poses. Christoph, you have to believe me. If you don’t, then no one will.”

  He nods slowly, his eyes ever so serious. “Damien’s on his way home, Eva. We’ll re-evaluate what to do.”

  He steps back out into the hall and I hear his footsteps as he walks away. I collapse into a heap on the bed, staring at the ceiling, still shivering with shock. And then the tears come.

  I cry for Luca… because his brothers think he’s gone crazy. I cry for Marianne. I cry because I know that somehow, she was killed because I went to see her. I told her a brief version of the truth and for that, she lost her life.

  It was my fault.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Luca

  Water drips somewhere, off in a darkened corner where I can’t see. Adrian has blindfolded me now, cutting off my optical sensory, so I can’t see anything at all.

  As I sit in complete darkness, I ponder his plan.

  He brought me here to the crypts, to a place where only he and I, and my brothers know about. My brothers would never think to look here for me, so Adrian knew it was a safe place.

  I’m sure he chose this place specifically… knowing that it would torture me to know that I’m so close to Eva, to home, but I might as well be a million miles away.

  So far, he’s restrained me, broken my fingers, and blindfolded me in a room where my dead mother is entombed. He’s threatened Eva if I try to escape, and he plays her frantic voicemails to emotionally torture me.

  But as of yet, nothing else.

  What is his end game? Why hasn’t he just killed me and been done with it? I don’t even know how long I’ve been here. Time has ceased to exist.

  But perhaps that’s part of his game, too. He wants me to think about it, to try and figure it out, to cut off all of my senses until I’m left hopeless and half insane. He wants me to dread my death so much that when it finally comes, it will be a relief.

  I’m not going to play into his hands.

  I force myself to stop thinking of it, and instead, I focus on Eva. In my head I picture her smiling at me, stretching out her hand to hold mine. I can’t help but remember how often I’ve distanced myself from her these past weeks, to try and shield her from an inevitable bad end. If I could take it all back, I would.

  I’d spend every minute I could with her, soaking in her bright smile and hopeful spirit. Every minute. Because all those other minutes were just wasted.

  Something crawls over my bare foot, a spider perhaps, or a mouse. I don’t even flinch. At this point, nothing matters.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Eva

  “Three weeks, four days, seven hours. That’s how long he’s been gone,” I tell Damien and Christoph. They sit across from me in Luca’s study, their faces drawn, their eyes troubled. “You keep saying that he hasn’t been gone long enough to panic, that we shouldn’t call the polizia because we have no basis, that it could’ve been Luca who killed Marianne and we don’t want to implicate him…. But I disagree.”

  Damien swirls the scotch around in his glass, a motion that pains me because it’s so like Luca. And Damien looks so like Luca. Every time I look at him, a throb of pain slices through me. The way he stands, the way he walks, the way he moves.

  So I’ve been avoiding him.

  “Eva, I know you disagree. But you’re distraught. We absolutely cannot call the polizia. I promise you that I’m doing all that is possible to find him. The polizia couldn’t possibly do any more. Our resources are far more extensive than theirs. We will find my brother. When we do, we will find some way to help him. And because of the way we’re handling it, we won’t have to deal with any legal implications at that time. You’ll thank me then. I promise you that.”

  I sigh heavily. “I understand what you’re saying. I understand what you’re doing and why. But what you don’t understand is that you’re wrong. I know Luca didn’t leave me on his own. I know it. And I know that every minute that we don’t act as though he was abducted rather than simply left on his own, is a minute that he could be in very serious trouble. You’re still treating this as though Luca is in control. He’s not. Adrian is. I feel it.”

  Damien blinks hard, staring at me. “I can’t change our plans because of your feeling, Eva. As much as I respect you, we need more than that to go on. I’m sorry. I know my brother, too, and the man that I know is different than the man that you know. I feel certain that Luca is taking matters into his own hands.”

  “If that’s the case,” I attempt again, “Then why didn’t he tell you before he left? If you know him so well, wouldn’t he have told you his plans?”

  Damien stares at me, sympathetic once again. “He knew that I would try and stop him, just as you would’ve tried to stop him. Our odds were far better when we were together than they are with him being alone.”

  I didn’t need to hear that. My stomach churns and I press my hand on it. The stress has taken a huge toll on me. I’m constantly nauseous, unable to eat much. I’m always woozy, physically drained. Something has to change soon.

  “I’m sorry,” Damien adds, his voice gentler now. “I don’t mean to upset you. I just need you to understand that I do care about my brother. I’m doing what I think he wants us to do.”

  I look away, at the wall, at the floor, at my hands. I don’t know what to say now to get him to hear me.

  “Eva, you look tired,” Christoph points out kindly. “You really must rest. Come with me. You can lie down on a sofa in the atrium and I’ll play you to sleep.”

  Woodenly, I accompany him to the grand and luxurious atrium and after I’m settled on a couch under a cozy blanket, Christoph seats himself at the piano and softly plays.

  The music that flows from the keyboard isn’t what Luca usually plays, but it’s soft and melodic all the same. It reminds me of him and if I just barely stare through my eyelashes, Christoph looks like Luca playing. As his hands sweep across the keys, I pretend that they are Luca’s. That all is right with the world, that Luca is here, playing me to sleep, keeping all the dangers of the world at bay.

  I close my eyes, letting the music surround me, cocoon me like a soft blanket. I’m so very weary, it does feel good to rest. And in my head, Luca is here. The delusion makes me feel so good, I decide that I might just keep my eyes closed until Luca returns.

  But then something occurs to me, something startling.

  As my hand brushes my belly, a vague sick feeling continues to plague me. It’s always there, some days worse than others. I’ve been attributing it to stress, but as I’d just pointed out to Damien and Christoph, Luca has been gone for al
most a month.

  The last time I’d had my period was two weeks before he left.

  Six weeks ago.

  I sit straight up on the sofa, my heart pounding as I try and think this through.

  I’m on the pill, but after we realized that Luca was still having episodes, I grew distracted. I forgot to take the pill on several different occasions, and so I took two the next day.

  But as a physician, I know that isn’t always effective.

  My hand cups my stomach and I realize that the thought that I could be pregnant makes me happy. Luca and I lost a baby before… and he’d thought that was for the best. But that was back when he still thought he had a genetic anomaly, a wretched curse that he would pass on to a child.

  That isn’t the case now. Any baby we have together will be beautiful and strong. I know that much. And it will be a blessing, particularly now when he’s gone. I have this part of him to cling to, to dwell on. A healthy thing to focus on.

  First thing in the morning, I’ll go into town and get a test. But for now, I revel in the possibility. I lay back down, listening to the soft music and concentrating on the idea that I could even now be carrying Luca’s child. I fall asleep with my hand splayed across my belly, protecting a child that may or may not be there.

  ********

  There are two pink lines.

  I stare at the fuzzy lines, my hand shaking as I sit on the side of my bath tub.

  I’m pregnant. It’s certain.

  A particular joy wells up in me, causing tears to fill my eyes and my heart to leap. I’m carrying Luca’s baby. We made a baby…a baby that will have the best of both of us.

  I’m consumed with wanting to tell him, with wanting to hear his voice. So, for the hundredth time, I call his cell phone. For the hundredth time, he doesn’t answer, but when his voicemail picks up, I revel in the husky sound of his voice. I memorize the sound of each word and when the phone beeps, I can’t help but spill the news, my words so excited that they fall over each other.

  “Luca, I don’t know where you are. I don’t know if you’re listening to your messages. But I’m pregnant. You’re going to be a father. And you don’t have to worry about your baby carrying your curse…because there is no curse. This is a blessing, Luca. I only wish you were here to share this day with me. Please come home. I need you.”

  I hang up with shaking fingers and I stand, examining my body in the mirror. My belly is still flat, my breasts still smallish. Very soon, those things will change. But until then, I feel the need to keep it a secret, something that I can relish myself for a while.

  My tiny secret.

  I smile as I palm my belly, imagining the child who rests inside.

  No matter what I do, I have to keep it safe. That’s my responsibility and I’ll take that very seriously. For now, this child is all I have of Luca.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Luca

  Eva’s pregnant.

  Her words fill the tomb and despite everything, happiness leaps inside of me, regardless of my confinement and my doomed fate.

  I don’t know how it happened, but I’ll consider it a blessing.

  She’s pregnant. No matter how it ends here between me and Adrian, my child will live on.

  “Clever,” Adrian says, stepping from somewhere in the tomb. I have no way of knowing how long he’s been here since I’m still blindfolded. “Very clever. Your girlfriend is pregnant. Too bad your child will be born a bastard and will never know his father, isn’t it?”

  There’s a satisfaction in his voice and I can feel him moving behind me, close enough to smell his aftershave.

  “You know we can’t let this stand, right?” Adrian asks icily. “Your line will die with you. That I promise you.”

  My heart stops.

  “No,” I say raspily. The first word I’ve spoken since I’ve been here. My throat rebels, and I cough, clearing it, then trying again. “No. Don’t hurt her. She’s done nothing to you.”

  Adrian laughs. “He speaks! The great Luca Minaldi speaks. What, pray tell, do you want to say? What could you possibly offer me to get me to leave her alone? Tell me that!”

  I shake my head. “I’ll give you anything. I’ll do anything you ask. Just leave her be. Please.”

  Adrian’s acidic laughter echoes through the stone room. “I love hearing you beg, Luca. Perhaps Eva has given me a gift. She’s given me the one thing I can use against you. I should thank her in person.”

  “No!” I protest sharply. But Adrian only laughs in response.

  “Eva was wrong,” he utters in the dark. “The Minaldi curse is real. Your curse is me.”

  Then there’s silence and I can no longer feel Adrian’s presence near. He’s gone.

  All I can do at this point is pray that God will keep Eva and my child safe from harm. Since I’m not a monster anymore, maybe he’ll listen.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Eva

  Grendel and I walk the property, and I inhale the sea air. The saltiness of it fills my lungs and I lift my face to the sun.

  Despite Luca not returning, I can’t help but be filled with hope. I’m carrying a child, tucked deep inside my body, safe from harm.

  Luca’s child.

  Every day, I make sure to walk for exercise and to breathe in the fresh air. Today, like every other, I take careful steps on the path leading to the cliffs, stopping long before I reach the jagged edge and turning back for the house. Grendel pauses at my side, his nose lifted high in the air as he sniffs.

  Whimpering, he looks at me, pleading.

  “He’s out there somewhere, isn’t he, boy?” I ask quietly, stooping to scratch the massive dog’s chin. “I know he is. And so do you.”

  Grendel scans the perimeter, the cliffs, the trees, the English maze, the mausoleum, before he whimpers again and starts to lope down the path.

  “No,” I call out to him, suddenly afraid. All of a sudden, I feel like there are eyes on me, watching me. The wind swirls around me, whipping at my clothes and hair, all the while a presence lingers near. I can feel it. The hair lifts on my arms and I spin around, searching the trees, but nothing is there.

  Ever obedient, Grendel returns to my side, but he still whimpers as he stands alertly, staring into the distance.

  “What do you see?” I ask him quickly. “Who’s there?”

  Of course he doesn’t answer, and I feel the need to get to the safety of the house. The last time I felt a presence, a cat was killed in my stead. Grendel stays by my side, although one time he does stop in his tracks and turn around, staring behind us.

  I look too, but nothing is there.

  “Come, Grendel,” I urge him and he does, accompanying me into the stone walls of the house, feeling as though every step of the way someone unseen is behind me.

  My feet unconsciously carry me to the atrium, where I slide back the hidden door and enter the tunnels. I pause only to close the door behind me before I run for Luca’s secret room.

  If ever you need to run, run here.

  My feet barely touch the floor as I fly down the stone halls with Grendel at my side. I break to the left every time the tunnel splits and Grendel runs ahead, as if he knows exactly where I’m going. With a start, I realize he probably does. He’s been here a hundred times before with Luca.

  When I arrive, Grendel is already inside, waiting for me on his haunches as I burst out of breath through the door.

  Beside Grendel, a single red rose lays on a chair, standing out starkly against the drab background of sandstone.

  I suck in a breath and whirl around, but no one is there.

  “Luca?” I whisper. “Are you here?”

  Only silence answers me. Goosebumps raise on my arms as I stare at the blood red petals of the flower in front of me. Luca cut roses for me before he disappeared and only Luca knows of this room.

  “Has he been here, boy?” I ask Grendel, absently patting his head as I pivot, looking around the room. Everything looks untouched sin
ce I was here with Luca last.

  None of this makes any sense. If Luca were here, he’d come to me, especially after I’d left him the message about the baby. He wouldn’t leave a flower in an unused room in the tunnels.

  But what other answer is there?

  I snatch up the rose and walk quickly back toward the atrium door.

  When I emerge inside the house, the utter silence is startling. There is no hustle and bustle of staff, there is no noise at all. It’s unsettling. Each step I take seems to echo, to carry loudly through the halls and before I know it, Damien is standing in front of me. He looks relieved to see me.

  “Eva,” he says, placing his hand on my elbow and turning me around. “We need to speak to you in the study.”

  Luca’s study, I want to tell him. It’s Luca’s study. Not the study. But it’s a childish thought, a tiny detail and so of course, I don’t voice it. Instead, I follow him obediently and sit in a chair. Damien thrusts a glass of scotch at me, which of course I don’t drink. I simply hold it in my hands along with the flower that I still carry.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask slowly, looking from Damien’s grave face to Christoph’s. Christoph’s is filled with pain, his eyes giving him away. Something has hurt him. “What happened?”

  Damien motions to my glass. “You might want to drink that.”

  I shake my head, alarm flooding me, causing my hands to shake so much that my drink sloshes against the sides of the glass. They are both so somber and grave, so pale and quiet.

  “Just tell me,” I whisper, clutching the crystal.

  Damien moves to the chair next to me, reaching over and grasping my hand.

  “This is hard to say,” he says slowly, his eyes trained on my face. “But you need to know. Luca’s car was found in the sea this morning. It washed up on the rocks down the road.”

  My blood runs cold as it thrums through my veins, throbbing into my temples and blurring my vision.